Arching my back, I’m about two seconds from asking him to blow off this party, take me to bed, and take care of my every ache and need.
Ryan must sense my thought process, because he interrupts it to tell me, “We’ve got to go.”
I turn to face him, chest to chest with his navy-blue suit and white pressed shirt. He looks good in a lighter color than black. His blue-green eyes are leaning towards sapphire in this outfit.
“You look handsome tonight.”
His tongue sweeps out to wet his lower lip before it’s pulled between his teeth in a smirk. Attention darting to my mouth, I suck an anticipatory breath before Ryan steps back to create some distance.
“We can’t be late,” he reminds me.
“Can you tell me what this party is for yet?”
He checks the Rolex on his wrist, but then he looks back to me, hesitating for a moment. “Zanders is proposing to Stevie. This is their engagement party.”
“What?”
Ryan eyes me with concern.
“He’s asking her tonight?” I cover my mouth with both hands.
“He’s asking her right now. They’re on a plane headed back to Chicago.”
My chest heaves with a broken sob. “Oh my God.”
Once again, Ryan looks at me like I’m a fragile doll about to break. “Are you okay?”
My eyes burn with tears because even when I’m so overwhelmingly happy, crying is my emotional outlet of choice.
“Hey,” Ryan says, hands cupping my face, thumbs gently swiping under my eyes. “Don’t cry. You’re going to ruin your makeup.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Are you upset?”
“What?” I pause. “Why would I be upset?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why would you say that?”
He holds eye contact and understanding floods me.
“Because it’s not me?” I surmise.
Ryan’s lips lift in an apologetic smile. “Everything is still so fresh for you, Ind. You’re going to a bridal shower tomorrow and now an engagement party tonight—”
“I’m happy. I’m so fucking happy for them. This isn’t about me.”
Every word is the utter truth. I don’t know if it’s the time I’ve had since Alex and I broke up, or if it’s simply that seeing my best friend happy holds no room for selfishness, but no part of me is upset from what I lost out on.
Ryan tucks my hair behind both ears before giving a final swipe under my eyes. “You’re a good friend to her, Blue.”
“Well, she’s a good friend to me. You could’ve told me. I could’ve helped with the party. I could’ve—”
“I know. Zanders thought about asking for your help, but I told him not to. I wanted you to have fun without worrying if everyone else is too.”
That’s my role, though. I’m the party planner, the host. I make sure people are taken care of and having a good time.
“Yes, Ind. You’re going to spend an entire night enjoying yourself without taking care of a single other human being. Shocking, I know, but I think you can do it.”
“Fine,” I resign. “But if this party sucks, I’m giving Zee shit for not asking my opinion.”
“It’s Zanders we’re talking about. This is going to be extravagant as fuck.” He pushes the hair out of my face, both palms bracketing my cheeks. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
I nod in his grasp. “Yes, but thank you for asking.”
Once again, my attention darts to his lips, but just as quickly, he clears his throat.
“We should get going.”
Ryan opens my door for me once his driver drops us in front of an inconspicuous building with nothing but a small dimly lit sign over a black door. There are no paparazzi or media outside, which is something I was prepared for, and only a large man stands by the front entrance with a clipboard in his hands.
Zanders did a good job of keeping this under wraps. Even I had no idea this was happening tonight, let alone the local media.
Ryan’s hand slides against my lower back, leading me towards the front door.
“Indy Ivers,” he tells the doorman. “And Ryan—”
“I know who you are. This is wild.” The doorman’s brooding expression softens into a smile as he shakes his head in disbelief because even a bouncer who is getting paid to be discreet can’t help himself from fanboying when it comes to Ryan Shay.
He opens the door for us, leading us into a dark hallway, and Ryan’s hand continues to protectively overwhelm the small of my back.
Shedding my jacket, I turn towards him before we enter the main room. “Since your teammates and GM aren’t here, I guess we don’t have to pretend we’re together tonight.”
Ryan hangs both our coats with the rest of the guests’. “I guess we don’t.”
Neither of us hold much conviction in our tones.
“But,” I begin, and Ryan’s eyes dart to mine, a bit of hope flickering through them. “It could be good practice.”
“Right, and the wedding is coming up.”
“Right,” I quickly agree. “So, we should pretend tonight? For practice.”
“Yeah, that seems like the right thing to do.”
Without further hesitation, Ryan’s hand is in mine, fingers threaded together, leading us into the main room.
The space is small and quaint, just large enough for Zanders and Stevie’s closest friends and families to fill the room. But in true Zanders fashion, the lighting is moody and expensive, the bar is fully stocked with the best beer and liquor money can buy, and there’s a DJ and a dance floor waiting to be occupied.
Rio, Maddison, and the rest of the guys from the Raptors are the first faces I see. Rio’s green eyes go wide with excitement, his hand waving me over. Though I’m not so sure if he’s stoked to see me, or if he’s hoping the man at my side, who he’s utterly obsessed with, will join too.
“I want to go say hi to the team.”
“And my parents are here,” Ryan says. “I should go warn my mother that you’re not my actual girlfriend before she gives herself a heart attack from excitement.”
I would join him to say hi to my best friend’s parents, but Mrs. Shay isn’t my favorite person. Ryan and Stevie’s dad is a gem, a sweet and loving man, but their mom wasn’t great to Stevie for a lot of years. They’ve been in family therapy and are repairing their mother-daughter relationship, and clearly, things have been better between them otherwise Zanders wouldn’t have invited her here today.
I may be too lenient in my own life, but if you cross my friends, I’ve been known to hold petty-level grudges. So, for Ryan’s sake, I’ll skip out on speaking to his mom tonight, especially after I have few drinks.
“See you soon?” I ask.
“I’ll come find you.”
We pull away, but not before fingers linger a little longer than they should for two people who are pretending.
“So, you are fucking my celebrity man crush,” Rio says as he wraps me in a hug.
“We’re not fucking. We’re using this as a practice run. He has to be my believable boyfriend in front of my childhood friends in a couple weeks.”
Rio turns away from the group of his teammates, keeping his voice low. “There’s absolutely no way to convince me that you’re not sleeping with your roommate. Have you told Stevie yet?”